Like a Blue Moon | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant memoirs of the Rabbit Patch, where her diaries weave tales of a simpler, expressive life lost to many, but gathered together in her most familiar environs - the Rabbit Patch.

    Sunday at the Rabbit Patch

    I have been watching the snow fall since rising. It is all but stopped now. The trees bear witness, for their branches look frosted. Pine trees are especially lovely when snow is clinging to their evergreen needles. The lawn holds no souvenir of the snow. I sat by the morning table with coffee and watched the event of light snow falling in a state of contentment. I watched the rose bushes in the "Quiet Garden" as the snow collected on their branches. They wear a late snowfall as beautifully as they wear their June blossoms.

    Moon Shine, who has shown no interest in going outside, since his civilization, actually slipped out this morning. He did not tarry long. He was a comical sight, running in the door, with snow all over his tuxedo. Snow at anytime is scarce at the rabbit patch, and I suppose he was curious about it.

    We are not having our "Sunday Dinner" today. Instead, I am cooking split peas, as I have found some one else in the world, that likes them. In the past, I have not been able to give them away. Split peas are just not a popular dish in this area, but I love them anyway. Tomorrow, when a cold rain is falling, Melissa , my young co-worker and I will have some for lunch.

    I am also going to make Christian a strawberry cake today. Birthdays last a good while at the rabbit patch- and for whatever reason, any sort of stormy weather makes me want to cook, even more than usual. By the time the cake is done, there will be no evidence it ever snowed at the rabbit patch, this day. Still, I am grateful to have watched snow fall for a few hours. I count it as "time well spent."

    The tranquility of the morning affected the rabbit patch all day. Everybody, including myself napped in intervals. The old house was quiet as someone was always asleep. Moon Shine did manage to disturb the peace, several times. Every one of us quarreled with him, at some point.

    I took great note, that hours pass sweetly, when they are not filled with details. Days, without agendas, are as necessary and vital to me as the restored running water at the rabbit patch.

    On Monday

    I rose this morning while moon light gilded the rabbit patch with silver shine. It made the humble farmstead as enchanting as any castle in any fairy tale . Day light saving time, did not affect the beloved pets of the rabbit patch. They slept contentedly, as they are not concerned about the spring recital, nor the electricity bill. Christopher Robin looked at me with one winking eye and seemed to wonder what we were rushing about, at such an "ungodly hour." Today, there was an agenda full of details. Today there was an almighty clock to be reckoned with.

    By mid day, the predicted cold wind, started to pick up. I noticed the blossoms of the bradford pears , had been replaced with young leaves. They are a lovely light green color and when a large flock of robins decided to perch among them, it afforded a charming and cheerful sight-frame worthy, and I thought, I would call it "March Gladness".

    I had not been home an hour, when the turnips and potatoes were boiling and cabbage was steaming. I started a load of "whites" just as the rain began falling. This is the week day rhythm at the rabbit patch. Far be it from me, to sit down when I first arrive home. Supper may be scant or reduced to remnants that "need to be eaten". Laundry may spend the night in the washer only to wake me at an odd hour, like a bad dream.

    For those reasons, I adhere to a self-inflicted schedule. . .but ever so often, a day will come along , that does not require anything to be measured or sorted out-and you do not need to go anywhere, to be in the right place . Those days come along as seldom as a "blue moon"-and . . .they are every bit as beautiful, when they do.